


Like You Mean It

by allofthefandoms



Category: Captain America (Movies), The Avengers (2012)
Genre: Hair Kink, Hair-pulling, M/M, PWP, This was supposed to be shameless porn, but feels got in the way
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-06-04
Updated: 2013-06-04
Packaged: 2017-12-13 22:21:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 797
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/829530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allofthefandoms/pseuds/allofthefandoms
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I was slayed by the pictures going around tumblr of the Winter Soldier and his hair.  And this happened.  Adamantsteve you are a shameless enabler.</p>
    </blockquote>





	Like You Mean It

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AdamantSteve](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AdamantSteve/gifts).



> I was slayed by the pictures going around tumblr of the Winter Soldier and his hair. And this happened. Adamantsteve you are a shameless enabler.

Bucky swept his hair out of his face, grinning up at Steve with a smirk and Steve almost gasped with the force of arousal that swept through him.  The moment of distraction let Bucky drop him, the smirk blooming into a triumphant grin.

“Distracted?”

There’s the odd edge to his voice that sounds like the Winter Soldier, and it only makes Steve want him more, knowing the price he paid for it and what he came through to still be here.  Call Steve a sentimentalist, but the fact that Bucky is here, despite everything, makes moments like this even sweeter.

“You are,” Bucky said, the grin on his face going lopsided and tender.  He leaned down to kiss Steve, but his hair gets in his eyes and he kisses the side of Steve’s nose and he curses and sits up.

“I’m going to cut all of this off,” Bucky swore, picking at strands that stuck stubbornly to his sweaty forehead.

“Don’t!” Steve gasped, horrified at the very thought.  The smirk is back, and it pools at the bottom of Steve’s stomach.

~ ~ ~

That night, after briefings and debriefings and yet another session with Dr. Strange, Bucky is just ready to be home.  The spot where his prosthetic meets his shoulder is aching like it does before rain, and for some inexplicable reason he is restless and on edge.

“Buck.”  There’s a flash of pain as his hair is pulled and he almost strikes at his attacker before he sees Steve and grins, a low and feral growl tearing out of his throat as he’s pinned against the wall.  Steve always was a big man, even when he was trapped in a little man’s body, and the thrill of Steve’s new form hasn’t gotten old.  The very fact that Steve can comfortably bracket him with those arms that are all corded muscle and soft skin is enough to drag a soft moan from Bucky’s lips.  The hand in his hair kept his head tilted back enough for Steve to have all the access his heart desires to the soft milky skin of Bucky’s neck, and he knows there will be marks tomorrow.

“I swear to God Buck you’d better not cut your hair.”  Steve sounds wrecked, and Bucky can’t help but laugh.e.

“That bent out of shape because I came home a little shaggy?”   Steve only moans and resumes his attack on Bucky’s throat.

Eventually they stumble to the bed, shedding clothes as they go.  Steve has one hand in Bucky’s hair at all times, letting go only to switch hands so he can work at a zipper or button.

It’s been ages since he’s seen Steve this needy, so he just sits back and enjoys the ride.  But for a long time Steve just looks at him, holding himself above Bucky and trembling, eyes full of something Bucky can’t quite read yet.  It’s somewhere between lust and longing, and tinged with sadness and disbelief.  It leaves Bucky breathless and he surges up for a kiss.

“I’m here.”  Bucky doesn’t know why he says that, but they seem to be the right words, because Steve surges into action again, kissing Bucky ferociously while he works him open with thick and nimble fingers.

“God, Buck,” Steve whimpered.  “Look at you.”

“Don’t look, fuck,” Bucky snarled, thrusting up against Steve’s fingers.  “I can take it.”  Steve relents, slicking himself and hilting himself in Bucky with one long sigh.

Steve is being far more careful than Bucky wants and so he grabs the meat of Steve’s bicep with his metal hand and squeezes, grinning as it leaves a faint red mark.

“Fuck me, Steve,” he growled.  “I’m not fragile.  Fuck me like you mean it.  Leave marks.  Pull my hair.”  That seems to do the trick, because Steve’s grip goes painful and Bucky loves it.  Every frantic thrust sends a small spike of pain through Bucky’s scalp and he loves it, moaning under Steve like the whores the commandos always found during their leave.

When Steve came, he yanked hard  on Bucky’s hair, and that was all it took for Bucky to clamp around Steve like a vice as he came, Steve’s name on his lips.

“Sorry I hurt you,” Steve whispered bashfully in the afterglow.

“I asked for it,” Bucky retorted.  Steve frowned, tenderly tracing the scar tissue surrounding the heavy metal joint.  Bucky twitched.  He still didn’t like having the seam of his arm touched, but this was Steve, and there was such sad reverence in the way he looked at Bucky that he didn’t even flinch.

“I’m sorry they hurt you.”

Bucky knows that’s what Steve’s really sorry about, and he pulls him close.

“It’s done, Steve.  It’s over.  I made it, and it’s all thanks to you.


End file.
